The Evisceration of Innocence
by verboseprose1983
Summary: What if Konoha's Academy exams were similar to those of the "Bloody Mist"? Who will fight alone, who will try to work together, and who will desperately seek their One True Love to confess their feelings before it's too late. Beyond "dark naruto", more "dark elemental nations". Extreme AU, OOC etc etc. Slight "Battle Royale" crossover thematically, with a dash of pre-WW2 history
1. Why?

The Evisceration of Innocence Prelude: Chapter 1: "Why"

**AN**: After much lurking, I finally decided to give writing my own story a shot. Just want to make it clear that this is extremely AU similar to how "Battlestar Galactica" was given a "reboot". I'm borrowing characters, potentially touching canon events, and utilizing certain other facets of canon Naruto. However, this overall storyline is of my own creation with credit given to the movie "Battle Royale" and actual historical events that led up to World War 2. As this story is extremely AU, the first chapter will be establishing setting and relevant backstory.

**Premise**: Alternate Universe or Alternate History is all about asking "What If?". It is established in canon that the Mist is known for its brutal exams where Academy students are forced to kill each other off. What if events developed that caused Konoha to do the same for their own exams?

**Disclaimer**: blah blah blah don't own Naruto blah blah blah

1234567890

Despite obviously objective claims made by various notable scholars of history throughout the Elemental Nations, it was, however, more generally agreed that given the post-war repercussions, there was no real winner of the Third Great Shinobi War.

It was also widely agreed, if only with a certain degree of snide bitterness, that the only actual result derived from said conflict was that the world would clearly not survive a Fourth Great Shinobi War.

With the resolution of the war remaining unclear, it was not uncommon for many war-weary shinobi upon return from fields of battle to physically and mentally wounded families, shattered homes, and fallow jutsu-scarred lands to, despite any pithy ageless adages about how "theirs is but to do or die" notwithstanding, ask themselves the singularly simple question, "Why?".

While one might think such an expression of introspection to be innocently innocuous, as anyone who ever had to deal with young children at some point could attest, "Why?" is oftentimes the progenitor of a veritable Pandora's box brimming with a multitude of dark and horrific things unleashed by said innocent and innocuous question.

However, in this particular instance, "Why?" became the hardy seed that took root (no pun intended) in the desolate ruins of an exhausted land in social and economic shambles.

Parched for some semblance of order and normalcy, extremist movements and organizations thus flourished in the post-war aftermath as this malignant growth came to age from the mere kernel of "Why?". Hateful embers sown in bloodstained plains continued to smolder uneasily as everyone had their own answer to that basic question which quickly became less and less innocuous by the second.

Partisans and strident fanatics cloaked in platitudes such as "order" and "for the good of the people" quickly rose to prominence typically by shouting the loudest and having a quick and easy solution to the question, "Why?", which usually involved blaming someone or something other than themselves.

Such reactionary schools of thought were typified by the Root Movement which originated in Konoha, first as a direct-action ANBU-based paramilitary unit created by "elder advisor" Danzo Shimura to pursue his vision of "for the good of the people", and later as a more wide-spread social movement.

Espousing peace and order through carefully calibrated covert military actions to maintain a geopolitical balance of power, rigid social/political control, and the emotional suppression and conditioning of the younger generation, these ideas gained traction in fearful times especially to those who saw the need to restrain unruly youths that became shinobi whose aggressively exuberant natures, immature passions, and inability to "see the bigger picture" could easily spark conflict anew.

Steadily spreading beyond the borders of Konoha, branches of Root grew in power throughout the rest of the Elemental Nations on the wings of a war-exhausted populace willing to sacrifice freedom on the altar of the almighty god of national security in exchange for even the merest illusion of peace.

Naturally, Kyuubi's appearance and subsequent rampage only served to exacerbate the already prevalent fear and panic especially in Konoha. Danzo, in a swift and opportunistic manner, gleefully took advantage of the resultant hysteria and all but sidelined the Sandaime Hokage who, upon the Yondaime's death, had taken the helm of Hokage once again.

The ailing Hokage, strong in spirit but weak in age, knew which way the proverbial wind was blowing, essentially shrugged and ceded nearly all power to the ascendant Danzo and his pet Civilian Council, who quickly placed the blame for the amount of death and damage done by Kyuubi on the recklessness of the younger shinobi.

The civilian populace, desperate to point their fingers at someone, readily swallowed this logically flimsy excuse which claimed that had the younger shinobi been more disciplined (read "Root-conditioned") instead of enthusiastically charging in jutsus at hand, the threat would of been contained in a quicker, more organized, and less destructive fashion.

Unable to accept or admit their own culpability in causing the war as well as private guilt over their own lack of preparation against Kyuubi's assault, it was easy for those in power to point their fingers at the younger generations. Consequently, their proceeding knee-jerk reaction was to enact drastic and draconian measures upon them such as a complete revamp of Academy curriculum to ensure such situations would never occur again.

However, there were those who saw a different answer to the question, "Why?" and were horrified by the rise to power of ideals spawned by fear, wrought by anger, and steeped with cold cynicism.

Spurred by this desperate impetus, an underground youth movement that in a fit of irony likewise originated in Konoha emerged in, shall we say...a "_dynamic fashion_", diametrically opposed to everything Root stood for as being "not youthful", and instead, offered an idealistic vision of peace through platitudes such as "hope", "change", and of course, "the flames of youth".

Led by charismatic jonin, Maito Gai, his movement, colloquially known as the "Youthful Flames", was quickly labeled as a terrorist organization by those in power. Said heavy-handed reaction to a perceived threat to the status quo quickly began to tear Konoha apart as life-long comrades became foes, shinobi squads tore themselves asunder in fits of acrimony, and entire families and clans divided themselves across lines of near-imminent conflict. All because of the question, "Why?".

Desperately fighting against the encroaching darkness and insurmountable odds, the remaining surviving members that comprised the revolutionary sub-unit cell groups of Konoha's Youthful Flames battled to win over hearts seemingly already hardened against their beliefs.

Harried and hunted by ruthless squads of Root ANBU, they struggled to make their voices heard at the brink of the yawning abyss, not realizing that the near-certain guttering of their "flames of youth" would be the catalyst of the greater story to come.

1234567890

**Postscript**: Like it or not, do give me input. Irrelevant flames will be ignored as such, though I would like to point out that one does not incinerate the established Naruto universe without proper application of flames. As I am new to all of this, I'm not quite sure what is the accepted or generally desired wordcount for chapters, but as this prelude was just meant to establish setting, I decided not to ramble _too_ much with a final note that the next chapter will be actual story development/plot and will be _much _longer.


	2. Inciting Incident

**Chapter 2: "Inciting Incident"**

**AN:** Apologies for the long delay between chapters as I don't have much free time. Add in the fact that I obsessively read, edit, and tweak each chapter over and over until my brain fries. Anyway, enough from me…enjoy fans, yes, all three of you LOL. Thanks for the input, reviewers - the hamster on the wheel could not have done this without your encouragement.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. If I did, dubbing the anime based on my version thereof would be nigh impossible.

**1234567890**

Fallen leaves blazed merrily, the inevitable result of katon jutsus flown awry in a land known for forests. Other "fallen leaves" still remained, though slightly singed, escaping said jutsus if only by the barest of margins.

An all-too-close explosion thundered with concussive force, proceeded by a loud crack that harshly echoed through the air with stolid malevolence as a near-disintegrated pine ponderously tilted in an almost stately fashion to join its compatriots - heralding a sudden crescendo of sound and fury as the two "fallen leaves" in question burst into the clearing.

They had reached their destination. The Hokage Monument - glorious symbol of Konoha's past splendor and power. Also their mission objective.

Volleys of kunai and shuriken whistled past, spitefully singing their deadly song, only to be skillfully deflected inches away from the resolute expression grimly set on the face of Konoha's own weapons mistress, Tenten.

Whipping a flurry of explosive tags attached to senbon needles behind her in retaliation, Tenten cried out without looking back,

"GO LEE, I'LL HOLD THEM BACK!"

Boldly charging forward at a breakneck pace, Lee screeched to a sudden halt, causing a plume of dust to lazily congregate in the air around him.

The cloud consisting of various natural detritus momentarily obscured him in a sun-kissed haze but was displaced in a hurried manner by the following explosive tag detonation which revealed his visible turmoil as he looked back at Tenten - shock writ on his normally intent yet cheerful features.

Aghast, he shouted, "TENTEN, NO -"

Without breaking concentration, Tenten unfurled another two scrolls, knowing the explosive tags would not hold back their pursuit for long, and unleashed a furious fusillade of edged weaponry as she ground out through gritted teeth,

"I have to do this, Lee. For Gai, Neji, and everyone else...the mission comes first."

Lee, tears streaming down his eyes, began to strike his signature pose, "TENTEN-CHAN YOUR FLAMES OF..."

Only to be cut off by a spare kunai that flew past him, close enough for him to get the message as his impending diatribe was extinguished, mouth comically snapping shut with an audible click.

"GO!"

In other times, a rainbow might have appeared. Or waves crashing on a beach as the sun set. Or a flash of bared teeth gleaming unnaturally bright even in broad daylight. But not today.

An oppressive sense of foreboding saturated the air and the encroaching silence. It just wasn't the same with only the ghosts of those missing as company - even if Neji's only contribution would have been to stand in the background, stiffly disapproving. There was nothing left to say and no time for goodbyes.

After all, one cannot "hug it out" when your only available option has her hands full with an array of pointy weapons.

Tenten didn't look back as she heard Lee's footsteps fade away as he raced towards the top of the monument. She didn't dare. She angrily swiped at moisture around her eyes, growling under her breath in annoyance. Not tears. Dammit she was a proud kunoichi of the leaf not some useless fan-girl playing ninja. Definitely sweat. Focus on the mission.

The _mission_, she reflected. A wisp of a wry smile briefly crossed her lips, quickly chased away by traumatizing memories of screams, blood, and friends falling around her - eyes empty in death.

It seemed so simple - run top-side ranged security for the squad in charge of the diversion as their main echelon assaulted ANBU headquarters to rescue an imprisoned Maito Gai. Too bad no plan ever seemed to survive contact with the enemy.

Slipping easily into a defensive stance, Tenten knew that she only had seconds before their pursuers arrived. Time seemed to stretch as she briefly closed her eyes, centered her chakra, and breathed in the soothing forest scents that spelled home for perhaps the last time as her pulse slowed to a steady state of deadly calm.

_Beat_.

A squad of Root ANBU sped through the trees bordering the clearing.

_Beat_.

Tenten undid her final two scrolls, eyes now undeniably tearing up as she wistfully whispered, "Neji, where were you...please be okay.."

_Beat._

The lead ANBU coldly commanded, "Encirclement Plan Delta." No response was forthcoming nor expected.

_Beat.__  
__Exhale._

Eyes jolted open as with a fierce war cry, Tenten unleashed her final Twin Dragon Jutsu, a whirlwind of assorted edged weapons linked together by chakra strings that rend the air with a life-like screech just as the squad of ANBU burst into view.

With sinuous grace, three shinobi vectored into the clearing, unconsciously falling into a standard staggered high-mid-low target interception formation though generously curving their paths to give her jutsu a wide berth. Wielding their ninjato with casual skill, they expertly defended themselves against the ravenous onslaught to Tenten's noticeable dismay.

Frustration warred with desperation; her tense posture taut with effort, as cloying fear began to creep down her spine. Ruthlessly crushing this momentary self-doubt, she redoubled the chakra pouring into her jutsu which sped Tenten's frantic movements to greater heights. Panting with exertion, she wove her chakra strings in complex patterns as she sought meaningful effect on pliant flesh.

She knew she had to buy Lee precious seconds to complete their mission even if it meant her death at the hands of her own countrymen. Deep down, as a fresh genin, she knew she stood no chance against a squad of ANBU-level shinobi, though she could not hold back a private mental grin as it seemed that no matter how embarrassing her sensei usually was, she could not deny that some of his "never give up" attitude must have rubbed off on her.

Her brief mental reverie was brought to a crashing halt as on its heels, her honed instincts blared jarringly in alarm. Something wasn't right.

Confused, Tenten's eyes scanned the tree-line as she noted that their squad leader did not appear with his cohorts.

_Beat.__  
__Exhale._

Mere milliseconds later, their leader sprang into view, not _at_ her but _over_.

Fearlessly, the lead ANBU contorted and twisted in midair, sleekly avoiding her jutsu with precise and poised movements, all the while, performing handseals with blinding speed and practiced accuracy.

Momentarily distracted by the ballet-like display, eyes unable to resist tracing his trajectory, Tenten gasped in horror as the ANBU landed behind her position and finished with his seals while spinning in place.

Shocked, Tenten froze, chakra strings falling limp in her grasp and weaponry cascading around her in a deadly rain. Her panicked thoughts frantically sought to deny reconciliation with the reality of unwelcome truths but it was for naught as _she knew that move_. Her beating heart, torn with growing anguish, turned to ice as an all-too-familiar voice coldly intoned,

"_KAITEN_!"

**1234567890**

Konoha was burning.

And yet for all of his power, skills, and knowledge that made him a feared force in the world, he could do nothing.

It didn't matter how many jutsus he knew or how much hard-earned battlefield experience he had, the Sandaime Hokage had been defeated.

Alone in his chambers high atop the Hokage Tower, he chuckled sardonically as he sat shrouded in darkness that mirrored his thoughts.

Rarified heights may have dimmed the tumult of street-level battles far below, but said distance only added a cruel twist of the knife to his already anguished feeling of helplessness of being so close yet so far removed.

If only he had been defeated on the field – a fate which, at the very least, was one which he could comprehend.

Unfortunately, his plight was much less merciful than simply falling in battle. As ignoble as it was, he had been defeated by the bane of being Hokage - paperwork. Or more specifically, the ever-increasing deluge of said horror thereof.

Just the thought of that particular aspect of leading a village was exhausting in itself. How ironic it was, he reflected, that therein laid the very crux of the issue at hand.

He didn't want to make excuses, blaming his age or his failing health, but he could not suppress a certain plaintive part of himself that saw no shame in doing so, daresay a chibi-version with tears streaming - hopping up and down while screaming with frustration, "HOW?!"

How could one man be expected to read every nitty-gritty detail of every piece of legal documentation, funding request, or mission memorandum that entered his thrice damned in-box? It was all he could do to gloss over briefly, sign off or not, and move onto the next piece of misery that towered in never-ending stacks and imprisoned him more securely than any barrier jutsu. It was almost as if said stacks salaciously reproduced like rabbits in dark corners when he wasn't looking.

In a flash of sarcastic insight, he couldn't help but wonder if it _was_ some sort of jutsu and if it could somehow be applied to combat. At the very least, it'd bring new meaning to the phrase, "bogged down by paperwork".

He snorted in brief amusement, imagining an enraged Orochimaru unable to advance on Konoha - being mired in a viscous morass of TPS reports and Council requests for shinobi bodyguards.

But like past glory, the amusement quickly faded, omnipresent feelings of bitterness, anger, and helplessness returning with full force and intensity. No matter what, he could not deny the fact that _this_ was _HIS_ fault. He had brought this upon himself. All jokes aside, he, by his own hand had defeated himself more thoroughly than the effects of any enemy jutsu.

Was it so wrong to believe in the innate "good" of the people of Konoha? He could have ruled Konoha in an authoritarian manner akin to how every other shinobi village was ruled. But he had that unshakable faith in his people. That their "will of fire" was what set Konoha apart. That when it came down to it - man was not inherently evil and could rise above pettiness and selfishness to do what was right.

Thus, it was easy to just let go. To believe that given the reins, Konoha would prosper under the benevolent guidance of its people. Not to mention, the punishing weight that was lifted off his tired shoulders. After all, _it was what the people wanted_. Being near hysterical with fear, he couldn't blame them for wanting to have greater control over their lives. To feel like they were doing something to protect what was important to them.

So he signed. He signed off on granting more power and authority to the Council and by extension, ROOT. He signed off on a complete overhaul of Academy curriculum by the Council. He even surrendered Naruto to the hands of ROOT. Nothing was above sacrifice if it meant that the fear that infected the populace would be quelled. He signed until one day, to his astonishment, there was no more paperwork to sign. Against all odds, he even considered the possibility that he was under a genjutsu – as unlikely as it may have been.

Then to his growing horror, it dawned to him - the insidious machinations at play that left him completely powerless. Its gradual maneuvers that subtly exploited bureaucratic loopholes and deep insight into which of his emotional buttons and mental weaknesses to prey upon; it had all the hallmarks of the handiwork of Danzo.

With his idealism thus being shamelessly targeted, he had unwittingly felt compelled to sign - not noticing the tiny things here and there that eroded his authority nibble by nibble, until finally he was nothing more than a ceremonial figurehead. Nowhere else was it ever more true to always read the fine print. Or even better, "give them an inch and they will take a mile", as inevitably you find yourself with no more inches to give.

Thus with nothing left to give that hadn't already been taken, he sat as Konoha burned, hands figuratively, legally, and politically tied as it was made clear to him that by his own edict that internal security was wholly within the purview and jurisdiction of the Council - which, at this point, was just a mouthpiece for ROOT.

Ostensibly, he was still in control of foreign affairs though with the caveat of having his decisions under Council oversight and consequently, subject to override. As things were, it was ironic that he would have more power assuming his Clan seat in the Council than actually being Hokage.

He morosely gazed at a smiling portrait of the Yondaime nearby,

'_Minato, what would you have done?_ _Would you have acceded to the will of the people as I had? Or would you have taken the harder road and done what I no longer have the strength or the will to do.'_

His contemplation of his dismal failure as Hokage was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door.

Arching an eyebrow in surprise, he shrugged listlessly and replied, apathy clear in his tone.

"Enter".

As the door opened to reveal his Jonin Commander, Shikaku Nara, Hiruzen Sarutobi who was now essentially Hokage in name only, briefly indulged himself in an unworthy moment of spiteful petulance as he asked himself, '_Why are you even here? What's the point?'_

Though a veteran and battle-hardened Jonin, Shikaku Nara could not help but to feel uneasy as he all but quailed under the blank basilisk stare fixed on the Hokage's visage. This was an expression he had seen before, a look which spoke of the undeniable fact that the one who should have been the bulwark of Konoha's strength had given up.

Still, he had a job to do and until ordered otherwise, as Jonin Commander he would report to the Hokage.

Coughing meaningfully, he began, "Hokage-sama, ANBU headquarters…", only to trail off as Hiruzen, in an unwontedly brittle voice, interjected - voice barely audible,

"Old friend, where do we stand?"

Elevated IQ or not, Shikaku paused - as part of him was not quite sure where the Hokage was going with that query, yet despite desperately desiring to do so, he could not deny that the paranoid shinobi part of him knew all too well what was being asked.

With only the briefest of noticeable pauses, he crisply reported, "Hokage-sama, our shinobi force readiness is currently…", only to halt mid-speech once again at the face of bitter laughter.

Humor subsiding, Hiruzen smirked mirthlessly,

"Please do not be facetious, Shikaku, it doesn't suit you. We both know our shinobi forces are in a state of civil war and even without the conflict at hand, are no longer responding to the authority of the Hokage."

His smirk wavered, crumbling to dust as he continued,

"And who could blame them? It was my own failure in leadership that has caused this situation, my own weaknesses, misplaced faith, and mistaken judgment that eroded my position until, in a vacuum of trusted leadership and authority - they reverted to their own devices as leaderless soldiers are wont to do."

Unable to meet his eyes, Shikaku muttered lowly, "Hokage-sama…", only to be startled to sharp alertness as briefly, the old "God of Shinobi" of yore awakened.

Hiruzen rose from his desk in a blur of movement and hammered its surface with his fists in a fit of pique.

"DO NOT REFER TO ME BY THAT TITLE ANY LONGER, I HAVE DONE NOTHING TO BE GIVEN SUCH RESPECT…"

And as quickly as it occurred, the moment ended in a similarly brief span with the Hokage seated as if nothing had occurred.

"So, old friend, I ask again – where do we stand?"

At the face of such vulnerability, Shikaku could only feel shame. Shame that it had come to this, Shame that Hiruzen had to ask this of him, and most of all - shame in his deepest heart of hearts of what his response might be. Yet as troublesome as bluntly answering would be, to not respond would be even more troublesome. As such, being a Nara, he naturally took the path of least resistance.

"Hoka -…Sir, I am loyal to the duly constituted authority of Konoha…" he began, haltingly mouthing the cold legalese that left a dirty taste in his mouth. He didn't look up. He didn't have to. He already knew Hiruzen was giving as cynical of a smile as anyone could muster.

Hiruzen sighed with resignation,

"Of course you are, Shikaku, yet being as intelligent as you are, I'm sure it goes without saying that it isn't what you said that was important, it's what wasn't said. Need I also mention that in all that you said, you said quite a bit while essentially saying nothing at all? I think, that will be all…old friend, I know all too well where things stand between us"

Head bowed, Shikaku's mind churned, desperately running through various potential responses and subsequent scenarios resultant of said responses that would help heal this sudden breach.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he was saved from saying something truly awkward and patently insincere by Danzo's unexpected arrival. Flanked by a full platoon of ROOT ANBU, he strode into the Hokage chamber as if he already owned it.

Preening self-satisfaction and an odd sense of triumph was evident in his bearing and tone as in an almost blasé manner, Danzo smirked insolently,

"I couldn't have put it better myself, Nara-san"

Slightly flushing at the manipulation of his own words, Shikaku moved to post at Hiruzen's right hand, at the very least attempting to maintain the perception of an united front.

Hiruzen's eyes narrowed at the intrusion, mind flashing to a saying common in Suna,

'_A falling camel attracts many knives'_

Favoring Danzo with an expression of icy disdain, Hiruzen snarled, "Have you come to gloat, Danzo? I would imagine that you would have more pressing issues at hand."

If anything, Danzo's smirk grew even wider. Unbidden, he regally arranged himself on a chair facing Hiruzen, his detachment of emotionless killers fanning out around him to Hiruzen's barely-suppressed rage at the blatant disrespect.

Unable to tolerate the situation any further, Hiruzen snapped,

"YOU FORGET YOURSELF, DANZO. I STILL LEAD THE VILLAGE DESPITE YOUR UNDERHANDED AND SELF-SERVING PLOTS".

All but ignoring him, Danzo languorously deigned to finally respond. Fixing his calculating gaze on the cheery points of orange flickering and twinkling through the window, he philosophically replied,

"Hiruzen, if anything, it is what _YOU_ have forgotten that is the issue here. When you look out this window, all you see is the destruction of Konoha, the flames licking at everything you hold dear – and that shortsightedness, that lack of _vision_ is your greatest failing as Hokage."

Shaking his head with mock sadness, he continued,

"You do not see what I see, the lurking shadows kept at bay by fire - that yes, those flames _are_ burning our beloved village, but they are _NECESSARY_ flames. Does one not prevent a forest fire from growing into an even greater conflagration by scorching other parts of the forest in order to save the greater whole?"

Rising slowly from his perch, he moved closer to the window, pensively gazing outward,

"Without completely destroying the vestiges of the past, Konoha cannot be re-forged into something stronger. I do not take joy or pleasure in the deaths, suffering, and destruction these flames you see represent, but sacrifices must be made for the greater good of Konoha. If one allows cancer to simply fester without cutting it out, the poison will only continue to spread to the detriment of all."

Slowly turning back to regard Hiruzen with an almost regretful mien – though slightly undermined by the victorious glint in his eye, Danzo enunciated with precision,

"Which is why Nara-san brings up a salient point - the duly constituted authority of Konoha, which - pending your imminent retirement, falls to me.

Nearly apoplectic to the point of speechlessness at this development, Hiruzen forced himself to his feet, feeling the crushing weight of every year he had fought and bled for Konoha.

Glaring balefully at Danzo, Hiruzen took a deep and calming breath and then murmured lowly,

"So that's what it is, Danzo. Despite everything said, it all comes back to the one thing you never got – the position of Hokage. Your pretty words may sway those easily blinded, but I see the childish jealousy and bitterness that you clasp to your breast. It's plain in every move you have made – circumventing the decisions of the 'duly constituted authority of Konoha', as quaintly put by present company, as well as creating your own private paramilitary force to enforce your twisted ideals."

Face darkening in fury - he ground out with a moue of disgust on his lips,

"You would even stoop as low as to launch a coup – rationalizing in a delusional manner about 'the greater good' even as Konoha burns. Above all, it is now readily apparent to me that Orochimaru was not the only traitorous snake that this village has produced."

At that last sentence, Hiruzen had a satisfied smirk of his own as he had the satisfaction of seeing Danzo's carefully constructed façade of stoic calm shattered at the face of this grievous insult.

With all strategies for planned pretense and prepared mind-games rudely discarded, Danzo now rigidly stood – quivering and nearly purple with vituperation. With visible effort, he manhandled his emotions, tamping them down to within manageable levels and resumed his seat with what dignity he had left, pronouncing with forced calm and exaggerated cold courtesy,

"Be that as it may, history will take a far more…_enlightened_ view especially with you relegated to the sidelines of it. As such, the Council, with all due deference to your skills and abilities, has _requested _that in the interest of village security, your chakra will be sealed pending…"

Danzo never had the opportunity to finish the sentence as the ensuing uproar cut off whatever else he was about to say. Even Shikaku's usual expression of avid boredom transitioned to complete shock, if his slightly widened eyes were any indication.

Staring Danzo in the eye, Hiruzen simply stated, "I refuse."

In a movement quicker than any eye could perceive, all vestments of office were discarded, revealing ANBU-grade battle armor beneath.

From behind a wall of ROOT ANBU personnel in a standard client-protection "diamond" formation that rapidly coalesced in a professional fashion upon Hiruzen's sudden movement, Danzo could not help but grin maliciously,

"I expected as much, which is why I have one final surprise for you - call it…a going-away present from _an old friend_…"

With that, he placed a hand on the shoulder of the ROOT ANBU positioned right in front of him as one of the focal points of the "diamond" formation. Being distracted by other things, neither Hiruzen nor Shikaku had noticed that said ROOT operative was rather short for an elite shinobi. However, whatever questions they both might have had were immediately answered to their abject horror by Danzo's next words,

"KITSUNE_, unmask yourself."_

"Yes Danzo-sama", the diminutive ROOT ANBU promptly replied, which only made the scene even more jarring for Hiruzen, having to hear first-hand the unholy dissonance wrought by an odd mixture of familiar voice, uncharacteristically polite syntax, and monotone inflection.

At this devastating moment, Hiruzen's countenance all but crumpled - tears glimmering as the ROOT ANBU in question removed his mask and revealed a familiar shock of spiky blond hair as well as cold cerulean eyes. Eyes that not too long ago were vibrant and full of life now only reflected the emptiness of the void that was once his humanity.

At the sight of the one who used to jocularly call him "old man", it was all the despondent Hiruzen could do to maintain emotional control through overwhelming feelings of guilt and horror as the accusing litany, '_What have I done? Please forgive me Minato, I have failed you',_ ran through his mind. Sorrowfully edging around his desk to get closer to the boy, he crouched slightly as he tentatively reached towards one whom he regarded as family.

While doing so, he never noticed as Danzo gave a discreet signal. Hiruzen's outstretched fingers neared the unresponsive ROOT ANBU, only to find himself suddenly frozen in place to his brief bewilderment. However, he was not known as the "Professor" for nothing, a flush of pained betrayal plain in his grimace as he recollected a fragment of their last words to each other,

"…_I know all too well where things stand between us…_"

Hiruzen could no longer turn his head to confirm what had just occurred though one could say that by now confirmation was already moot. Despite missing the vocalization of the quietly muttered jutsu, he clearly heard the post-jutsu commentary that had none of its usual sense of smug satisfaction at its accomplishment,

"I'm sorry sir, _Shadow Binding Jutsu success_."

**1234567890**

It would've been patently hilarious had the situation not been deadly serious in its earnestness as Maito Gai, for the very first time in his life, could only be described as _subdued_ – in more ways than one. Apparently, life did have a sense of humor – if only a particularly _un-youthful_ one at that.

With a stern expression of pristine rectitude, he glared with all the vigor he could summon at the figure standing outside his cell, insouciantly reading that damnable orange book of his as if the slightly muted cacophony of intense combat from outside ANBU Headquarters was a normal everyday occurrence.

After all, life having a perverse sense of humor did begin to make increasing amounts of undeniable sense when one finds himself restrained by chakra draining manacles and guarded by one's eternal rival. Especially when said eternal rival has standing orders to terminate should ROOT determine that ongoing developments were…_untenable_, as concisely described personally by Danzo.

For one with boundless amounts of energetic enthusiasm, perhaps this was the worst torture of all. It didn't matter how much exercise he tried to do, chakra-draining restraints notwithstanding, he could neither ignore nor drown out the endless stream of auditory information that presented itself to him at his confined location.

Worst of all was when he could recognize distinct voices. And being a senior jonin who knew at least a sizeable segment of Konoha's standing shinobi force, he recognized _a lot_ of voices. Voices of co-workers, friends, neighbors, sparring partners, up-and-coming chuunin, and all-too-often, to his pained consternation – the shrill voices of what could only be young heretofore un-blooded genin.

These voices cried out, almost as if calling directly to him – voices he normally associated with happier times now twisted in anger, hate, and all too often – pain as they fought alongside or against one another for this cause or that, even if only to evade the clutches of death.

In turn, the owners of these voices were joined by those of their own co-workers, friends, neighbors, and sometimes even those of their own Clan or family, as it would seem that for Konoha, there was no time left for level-headed discussion or debate thereby leaving the sharp end of the kunai as the only remaining counterpoint.

Unbidden, tears trailed down his face as he heard yet another familiar voice sound its death cry – however brief that it was as it devolved to a sickening gurgle, denoting a slit throat.

'_How could it have come to this?' _

A question posed quite often especially coming from one who just wanted to spread the _SPRINGTIME OF YOUTH_ to one and all.

Desperately seeking to distract himself from his misery, he had no other option but to once again direct his attention to the one other individual within range as he passionately pronounced at the top of his lungs,

"ETERNAL RIVAL, HOW COULD YOU BE SO UN-YOUTHFUL, STANDING THERE AND READING THAT FILTH AS OUR FRIENDS AND COUNTRYMEN ARE FIGHTING AND DYING OUTSIDE?! HAVE YOU FORGOTTON YOUR OWN WORDS ABOUT HOW THOSE WHO ABANDON THEIR FRIENDS ARE WORST THAN TRASH?!"

Eyes wide and bulging, he waited with bated breath for some sort of meaningful response - anything at all. It went without saying that a key aspect of being youthful was all about continuous and repeated effort - even if the first, second, third, or perhaps the three thousand four hundred and twenty-sixth attempt to elicit a meaningful response results in failure.

Hatake Kakashi - Maito Gai's self-proclaimed "eternal rival", fellow elite jonin, notoriously lazy and tardy, and devoted fan of "Icha Icha", didn't even bother looking up as he casually turned a page in his little orange book - all the while, giggling in a perverted fashion to himself as a drip of blood poised ever so casually at the edge of one nostril.

After a completely unintentional but curiously well-timed pregnant pause, it was almost as if he finally sensed the sudden disturbance in the balance of ying and yang energy present in the area. Apathetically looking up from his precious porn, he briefly considered Gai blankly, then offered an all-too-familiar rejoinder,

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

Uncharacteristically subdued once again, Gai felt drained as he could not even muster the energy to comment on the extremely hip nature of his eternal rival's response. It then suddenly dawned to him that if Kakashi no longer believed in or followed that very saying that he was known for, perhaps he, alongside with a large portion of Konoha's populace, was irreversibly beyond reason as well as beyond saving.

**1234567890**

Gasping, Lee trudged up the final steps leading up to the top of the Hokage Monument. Clutching his side with evident pain, it was clear that Lee was on his last legs as shown by his bloodied and bruised appearance.

It had been a narrow victory as it would seem that the opposition was running out of warm bodies to toss through the proverbial mill. After he and Tenten battled through the veritable gauntlet up until the clearing before the monument itself, it was almost anticlimactic to have to face a hastily jury-rigged squad made up of three of his erstwhile classmates who had not made genin and led by one who had, but was cashiered for insubordination not too long after that.

While he had never been the best of friends with these four, it was still a disconcerting and uncomfortable thing for Lee to have to fight and kill those that he knew in a fairly familiar way.

Though the four opposing him were neither the most canny nor most capable of fighters, one against four was still daunting odds especially with three of them attacking with sloppy taijitsu while their leader spammed low-level doton jutsus recklessly without regard to the safety of his ad-hoc team.

In truth, if it wasn't for said recklessness backfiring dramatically, a lot of clumsiness, a little bit of luck, and a timely _Omote Renge_, things might not have turned out as well as they did.

Even still, as a result of the previous fight, Lee was no longer in any shape for further combat especially as he crested the lip of the final ridge which abutted the summit of the Hokage Monument, only to be greeted by yet _another_ squad of ROOT ANBU.

Lee grinned fatalistically,

'_THIS IS IT, SENSEI, TIME TO SHOW EVERYONE THE RESULTS OF HARD WORK!'_

The lead ROOT ANBU stepped forward and in a dull monotone, curtly ordered,

"Surrender, Flame scum, you cannot defeat all four of us, even if you were able to use chakra"

A beatific expression graced Lee's face as this time, an image of waves crashing on a beach as the sun set came into view, almost as if it were some sort of genjutsu. However, to the growing horror of the squad of ROOT ANBU, it was not the usual waves-crashing-on-the-beach-as-the-sun-set that their pre-mission intelligence brief had warned them about.

This one featured waves of blood that lapped caressingly forward and back endlessly upon the desolate wreckage of a viciously denuded battle-torn lunar landscape. With Lee at its forefront, looking right at home.

Taking advantage of the momentary shock even masks could not conceal that stalled the ROOT ANBU from whatever plans or strategies they might have had, Lee, in a grandiloquent manner, all but _screamed_ his defiance against fate,

"WHO SAYS I HAVE TO DEFEAT YOU WHEN I'VE ALREADY WON."

With that, Lee ripped the upper portion of his hideous green jumpsuit apart…

Only to reveal countless layer upon layer of explosive tags wrapped around his torso, back, shoulders, and arms – all primed and ready for detonation, causing the squad of ROOT ANBU to immediately back away.

A manic glint now in his eye, Lee laughed triumphantly, knowing the moment was finally at hand to do his part in helping free his sensei. It was time for Konoha to truly feel his _FLAMES OF YOUTH._

As strange it sounded coming from his mouth, Lee figured it was only appropriate, as without the originator of the phrase acting as an "advisor" to the Youthful Flames, they would not have conceived such an audacious plan.

Striking his signature "NICE GUY" pose one last time, Lee shouted with all his might,

"ART IS A BLAST…**KATSU!**"

**1234567890**

**Postscript: **First off, just to give credit where due, borrowed that bit about falling camels attracting knives from an Arab saying. Also, the parts centered on Gai and Lee are purposely short as I can only TYPE IN ALL CAPS for so long and with their voices/personality without going insane. Lastly, barring input on preferred chapter length, I'm just going to have to experiment "Goldilocks" style until I find one that's _just right_. I'd say thanks for reading and please review, but perhaps giving the reader some sort of medal would be more appropriate for managing to wade through my dense prose to this point.


End file.
